Bad News
Bad news, bad news
Over and again
They say beggars can’t choose
But the rich can
So they choose to produce
Now and then
Bad news and reviews
Of the bad men
I just sit at my place
As the time goes by
There’ll be soon vacant space
There’ll be no “I”
There’ll be voices of those
Hordes of unknown
And a sign of your rose
Carved in my stone.
Copyright © Gregory Colodub | Year Posted 2024
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